multi-shot staff

The hard part, during that advance, was not pitching in. The air wasn’t supercharging my use of magic any longer, and that meant I couldn’t be epic for very long before collapsing. If I’d tried another leaf-blower spell, it would have dropped me unconscious in the time it took us to move forward. It was simply too high an energy requirement now. I had the magic that was available to me and nothing more—and I had to save every punch I had for Ethniu.
And that meant that people died whom I maybe could have saved.
It wasn’t like I did nothing. My staff was still charged up, as if I’d loaded it up nice and heavy, and I knocked some bad guys around who would have wounded or killed my people. But I missed some. I don’t know. Maybe I could have done more. Or done it smarter somehow. But if you weren’t there, you can’t know how desperate it was. How everyone was terrified. What it does to you to see the power of darkness, of real, genuine terror, on gruesome display. Hell, even when it’s on your side, it ain’t pretty. Witnessing wrath and death being visited upon another being, no matter how righteously, is no easy thing.

Battle Ground Chapter 32, Page 305-306